Meet me downstairs in the lobby for a cup of coffee.
Dru's eyelids were heavy as she checked in at the hotel, the false lashes she wore hanging on by threads. The last week had not been kind to her---the bags that clung under her eyes like dunes told her story too well. Her throat was dry, and she was sure she would snap like a twig if she had one more inconvenience on this trip. Luckily, the lady behind the desk merely eyed her curiously as Drusilla's shaking hand handed over the credit card she had borrowed from her roommate.
We can talk it out.
"Solo trip?" The woman asked, punching keys on her keyboard with her chipped, green nails.
Drove all night just to meet you for a cup of coffee.
"Yeah, something like that," Dru said as a reluctant smile painted her lips. She stared at the woman whose pale, brown eyes were skeptical despite her crone's fingers taking the card greedily.
We can work it out.
Dru hadn't slept much in the last few days, and her sanity was waning. A deep yawn overtook her mouth, and she hurried to cover it with her hand as her phone buzzed again, reminding her of another unread text.
Meet me downstairs in the lobby for a cup of coffee. The words from his last text were still embroidered on her irises. Hope had crammed itself down her throat and buried any doubt in her belly as she sat in the hotel's parking lot in her beat-up Camaro. Surely this had to be his olive branch. Surely he was still in love with her. He had to be.
We can talk it out.
"Are you positive you're eighteen?" the woman asked, pushing her fire-engine red cat-eye glasses up and over the bridge of her sharp nose.
Drove all night just to meet you for a cup of coffee.
"Yes," Dru said impatiently. The rumpled Red Sox pajama top she wore made her self-conscious and irritated by the woman, she flicked a dark strand away from her eyes, still damp with the rain that poured outside. "I'm eighteen."
We can work it out.
The woman still did not appear to believe her, but Dru thanked the woman just the same as the card, and a room key was handed over. Dru adjusted the backpack strap and headed to her room with the woman still watching as she pulled up the matching pants that were clearly too large for her frame.
Meet me downstairs in the lobby for a cup of coffee.
Dru sighed and pinched her leg to stay awake as she roamed the hall, searching for the number. The hallways of the hotel were old ---smelling of stale cigarettes. The walls were covered in yellowed, flowered wallpaper and spattered with cobwebs, just like the halls of her heart.
We can talk it out.
